


Put Out to Pasture

by Anonymous



Category: Original Work
Genre: Extremely Underage, M/M, Multi, Necrophilia, Needles, Other, Oviposition, Sexual Slavery, Shota, Shotacon, Snuff, Strangulation, Xenophilia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-24
Updated: 2019-04-24
Packaged: 2019-12-25 17:45:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18266309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Jimmy has spent a good percentage of his extremely short life being passed around from house to house. Now he's been sold again to a seemingly kindly old man on a farm in the middle of nowhere, who doesn't seem interested in taking part of Jimmy's usual talents. Why is he here?





	Put Out to Pasture

**Author's Note:**

> Y'all read the tags, right?

Jimmy kept his eyes focused on his shoes as the truck bumped and rattled along the grooved dirt road, kicking up swirls of dust and grime-filled exhaust in its wake. He’d been taught to keep his head down in public a long time ago, but even the few glimpses he’d managed to sneak out the window hadn’t really grabbed his interest. It was always more endless fields of corn as far as the eye could see, both before they’d turned off the highway and for the last two bumpy hours. The man in the driver’s seat next to him was getting irritated too, grumbling and cursing under his breath, the empty cup between them from the last gas station steadily filling with wet globs of tobacco to mark the passage of time.

It was better to just stare quietly down and avoid attention, passing the time by trying for the thousandth time to discern what kind of animal was hiding in the blurred outline of the stain on his canvas shoe. Some days he was certain it was a bunny, others it was most definitely a crab, or an elephant, or a penguin.

There had been a new girl at the last house he’d lived in who had cried for hours when she first arrived until Jimmy had pulled her aside to ask her opinion. They’d stared at his foot for a long time, trying to make out the shape through the darkness, until she seemed to forget she had been crying and declared it a unicorn. He’d let her sleep with it that night, but two days later she was gone and he’d gotten it back.

Today though, in the sunshine streaming in through the cab windows, he was more certain than ever that it was some kind of sea creature. A jellyfish, or a whale. Or maybe a giant squid. One of the older boys had told him about a movie he’d seen with a monster like that.

The man cursed again, more loudly than before, and yanked the truck’s steering wheel hard to the left, pulling sharply at the last second down a driveway that had been all hidden by the tall stalks surrounding it. Sitting up a little straighter, the boy peeked out the side window again as the driver checked his rear-view mirror.

A farm, straight out of barely-recalled nursery rhymes and picture-perfect appeared on the horizon. It was tiny, like a toy of itself, but as they approached buildings grew into focus. Just like all the others they’d passed it had tall silos and a bright red barn, and a cheerfully flaking old yellow farmhouse. A single, newer-looking building with metal siding stood near the back, alongside pens full of pigs, all of whom were covered in dried mud and happily rooting through feed troughs. As the truck pulled up to a stop in front of the house, a flock of stray chickens flapped and squawked disapprovingly at the dust it kicked up towards their seats in the shade.

The man climbed out of the driver’s seat and slammed the door, rolling his shoulders and eyeing the ground distastefully at something he’d apparently stepped in. He headed for the farmhouse, and made no move towards the passenger side door. So Jimmy sat quietly, staring rapturously out the windows now it seemed he could do so with no immediate repercussions, hungrily taking in everything from the animals to the bright primary colors of the buildings and cloudless sky.

Jimmy could hear a dog barking excitedly now, as the man banged on the side of the screen door. A minute later, the door swung open and the dog burst out, sniffing the unfamiliar boots before skittering off with a yelp at a well-placed kick in the ribs. The boy winced sympathetically, he’d been on the receiving end of one of those a few times himself. Another man, older than the first was now talking intently with the man who had brought him, and though he didn’t look happy to see them, neither one of them looked angry or upset.

After a minute, the man turned and motioned brusquely at the truck, and Jimmy climbed out. The dog sniffed him, and seeming to find him acceptable, accompanied him back to the porch. Jimmy dared to reach down and pet one of its long, floppy ears as he went.

The man brought a hand down heavily on Jimmy’s shoulder, and he tried not to wince.

“Well Doc, here you go. Exact to specifications.”

The new man was older, with hair that was turning gray and glasses with rims the color of gold or brass. He was clean-shaven, but he rubbed his chin thoughtfully as he surveyed the child in front of him.

“How old are you, son?”

When the man didn’t immediately answer for him, Jimmy mumbled out. “Four, sir.”

Apparently that was the wrong answer. The new man frowned, and nails dug into his shoulder painfully.

“No he’s not,” Came the voice from above him, “He’s about six now, we’ve had him a couple of years, nice and broken in. He’s just small cause he doesn’t eat. Works for us, we can charge for younger.”

The man didn’t look convinced. Still rubbing his chin and pursing his lips, looking Jimmy up and down thoughtfully. It felt different, though, from the way he was used to men looking at him. Even behind the glasses he seemed like he had kind eyes.

“He’s awfully small for six. Might be too small for what I need.”

“So fatten him up, what do I care?” The man huffed, and spit another gob of tobacco off the porch. “You know what a deal you’re getting for a broke-in blond kid? I could get you three little Indian kids for the same fuckin’ price.”

The older man frowned, and looked like he was about to start arguing, when Jimmy took a chance and spoke up. This place seemed nice, with the sun and the clouds and the warm, soft dog now lying against his leg, but even if he wasn’t allowed to stay here for long, there was no way he wanted to face the man’s temper in the truck and back if it turned out he wasn’t wanted.

“I’m very tough,” he said quietly to the new man’s shoes, “I’m small but I’ve lasted longer than any of the other kids in my houses.”

Silence greeted him from both sides, with only the noises of the chickens pressing in. Taking a deep breath, Jimmy risked another glance at the bespectacled man’s face, trying to look

“Two years, you say?” He asked the man, who relaxed noticably.

“Yeah, two years, three houses, and about five hundred men.” He clapped Jimmy’s shoulder jovially. “This right here is a certified pre-owned ride.”

The new man nodded, and pulled a phone out of his pocket, pressing a few buttons. “All right, there’s half of what we agreed. The rest when the blood test results come through clean.”

The man’s pocket vibrated, and he released his grasp on Jimmy’s shoulder to pull out his own phone, grinning at the screen. “Always a pleasure doing business with you, Doc.”

He gave a mock salute and headed back towards the truck, without so much as a warning to behave for Jimmy.

The older man watched as the truck started up and tore out of the farmyard again, kicking up new clouds of dust as it disappeared again into the corn.

Snorting, he shook his head and held out a hand for Jimmy to take.

“What’s your name, son?”

“Jimmy, sir,” the boy replied quietly, trying not to let his anxieties show. A new house always meant new rules, and until they were given he had no way of knowing what he would be punished for or not.

“No need for that,” the man chuckled, opening the door to the farmhouse and letting the dog slumped against the boy’s ankles make its way inside again. “You can call me Doc, everybody does.”

Nodding, the boy mutely followed his new guardian into the house. The first stop was the living room. The furniture was dated, but looked clean and comfortable, with faded flowers on upholstery bleached by the sun. Jimmy wasn’t surprised when the first thing Doc did was strip him naked, placidly allowing the older man to do as he liked until instructed otherwise.

He examined Jimmy from head to toe, humming a little as checked him for any damage, and frowning as he measured the circumference of his waist and limbs. He even apologized when he pressed too hard on a bruised rib the boy had been nursing for a week, the result of not waking up fast enough for his previous owner’s liking.

As he bent over the sun-drenched sofa and let Doc examine his hole, Jimmy’s mind wandered as he dared to think about what lie ahead for him. Why did Doc need someone so tough? He didn’t seem like the type who played rough, at least not from this handling. It must be something else.

Doc was worried he wasn’t big enough… This was a farm, so maybe horses? Someone at his first house knew a girl who was given to a man who liked horses when she misbehaved. His breathing caught in his chest a little as he considered the idea.

Apparently thinking he’d hit something sore, Doc removed his fingers and apologized, nodding towards the boy’s pile of clothes. Smiling a little despite himself, Jimmy stood up, reaching for his shirt.

“It’s okay, I’ve had much worse.”

The man laughed a little, and there was a bit of genuine humor in it. “I bet you have, you seem like a brassy kid.”

The boy shyly muttered thanks, not wanting to ask what ‘Brassy’ meant. He was interrupted by the sound of his stomach growling loudly however, and Doc cursed under his breath.

“Ah shit, you haven’t eaten. Sorry Jim, that’s my fault. I told that prick I needed a blood sample, which requires you to not eat or drink for 12 hours.”

Jimmy actually hadn’t eaten in closer to 48 hours, but there didn’t seem to be a point in bringing that up.

Doc disappeared and reappeared a minute later with a needle and a pair of vials.

“You’re not afraid of needles, are ya?”

Shaking his head no, Jimmy held out his arm. He’d gotten tested a few times when he moved houses before, but none of them had ever required more than a couple of drops of blood. Maybe Doc was a vampire?

A minute later, Jimmy held the warm red vial as he watched it fill, trying to decide if he liked the strange sensation of his vein being sucked dry. Doc had left him to it, apparently trusting him not to run off or screw it up, and headed off towards a room deeper into the house.

When both vials were full, he carefully removed the needle and untied his arm, wandering in search of Doc or his new best friend, the black and brown dog with the floppy ears. He turned the corner into the kitchen, and his stomach started growling anew. Doc was standing at the stove, his shirtsleeves rolled up and an apron tied around his waist, flipping pancakes.

“There you are, sport. You have any trouble with it?”

Jimmy shook his head, producing the vials as evidence.

“Excellent. I’ll run those over to the lab this afternoon. First of all though, it’s pancake o’clock, and then I’ll show you upstairs to your room, you’ll probably want a nap after blood loss and a sugar rush, yeah?”

  
Again, Jimmy found himself smiling a little without thinking about it.

As Doc slid a pile of heaping, steaming pancakes in front of two seats on the kitchen table, the boy decided it would be okay if he was a vampire after all.


End file.
